


Wake Up

by GintokisGirl95



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6808471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GintokisGirl95/pseuds/GintokisGirl95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between Robb and Jon before Jon comes back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up

The darkness that engulfed him was…frightening. Yet, he never felt so relaxed before, so calm, everything so tranquil. He was at peace, and he welcomed the darkness but was terrified at the same time. His entire body was cold, even though he was wrapped in the finest, warmest furs and well-insulated clothing. 

There was something that was telling him to move, to get up and start walking, to keep moving. Keep moving, just move, he told himself. He listened, walking straight into nothingness tardily for what felt like a lifetime. He almost stopped listening, until he saw a slight flicker of light before him, with a person and a relatively large animal surrounding what appeared to be a blame. He quickened his pace, hurrying to the person, and when he reached his destination, he was greeted by the familiar Tully blue eyes, his auburn locks curled and framing his face. Lips pouted, stubble dusting his squarish jawline, his eyebrows naturally furrowed, Jon immediately knew who the person was. 

_Robb._

They embraced, exactly the same as the last time they saw each other. Robb hugged him tightly, his head turning to Jon’s neck, leaning into the quick squeeze. Even his direwolf looked happy, giving a happy bark, jumping on Jon’s body and licking his face, wagging his tail, then curling up next to the fire. Jon closed his eyes, hoping that this wasn’t a mere dream. 

_Everything feels so real. Even the heat of the fire…this can’t **not** be real…._

“What are you doing here?” He asked the first thing that came to his mind.

“What do you mean? I’m dead. But…” Robb started, placing his elbow on his thigh as he sat down, peering at him through those well-known eyes. “…there was something that told me to stay here, to wait. There was something I had to wait for, and now I realise why I'm still here, after all this time.”

Jon looked at him questioningly. Robb shrugged. 

“So…you’re gone too, huh?” Robb scooted over, giving him space to sit down near the fire. Grey Wind nipped at Jon’s glove, and he scratched at the direwolf’s right ear. 

“Yeah.” Jon nodded solemnly.

“How…?” He looked pained, Jon knew. And rightfully so.

“Stabbed repeatedly by the mutiny. Fellow brothers of the Night’s Watch.”

“They’re not your brothers, Jon. If you can’t trust them with your life, then they’re not your brothers.” Robb chuckled bitterly. “Betrayal, then, huh? I know that all too well.”  
Jon said nothing, just blankly gazing at the constant flicker of the flames. 

“I used to be jealous of you my whole life, Robb. The way Father looked at you...you were better at me at everything - fighting, hunting, riding…and all the girls loved you. By all the gods, they loved you.” Jon admitted. “All of those things, I wanted them all so badly. I wanted to hate you, you know…but I never could. Just…didn’t have it in me.”

“I remember what I said before you left. We were standing in the courtyard at our home.” Robb smiled, reminiscing. He patted Jon’s back, pulling him closer in another hug. “’The next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.’ And you told me, ‘black was always my colour’. Turned out you were right…but I didn’t know then that, literally, that was the last time we were ever going to meet alive.”

“But that doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re stuck in the blankness of the afterlife, in a pit of darkness, no home to go to, no Father, no happiness…nothing.”  
Robb nodded, acknowledging their fate. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the time where we were in the armoury practising. Do you remember? You put your arrows down and I started chasing you. Then we ran inside and you tripped, landing on the maid Fae’s bosom.”

“Ugh, gods,” Jon grimaced, making Robb laugh. “That was embarrassing. She served the Starks for so long; her tits were saggy and wrinkled. Just…ugh. I remember that day; Theon laughed his ass off.”

They continued laughing at the memory, sharing stories of embarrassment and hilarity; after the laughter died both stared at the flames again, Robb taking off his gloves to feel the warmth of the fire. 

“Grey Wind missed you, you know,” Robb said as he paused for a moment. “Even though he was with me, he still felt lonely. He really missed Ghost, the most. Even as pups, they were always together. It was always just them.”

“Ghost misses Grey Wind, too. He was howling when we both found out the news…direwolves are rather intelligent, aren’t they?” They both nodded in unison while Grey Wind nudged Jon’s hand, practically begging him for another ear scratch. “I wished for so long that I could have been there with you.”

“You were best left at the Wall. Be glad that you were there are not with me.” Robb muttered.

“They decapitated you and Grey Wind. They desecrated your remains, paraded you on a horse, his head attached to your body.” His brother froze and stared back at him, a mixture of shock, disgust, and horror etched clearly on his face. Jon pressed on, though dread splashed on his body like ice water. “’To the King of the North! The King of the North!’ they said. I didn’t want to hear that they said such things, that they mocked you. If I could have prevented that, I would have, no question.”

“Tch.” Robb spat. “They would attack me at a wedding, but not on a battlefield.”

“Most likely because they knew that they would lose. From what I have heard, you haven’t lost a battle since you marched south. They must have figured that the best way to attack you was by creating an element of surprise. What is more surprising than a massacre at a wedding?”

“The news you’ve heard…” Robb started. “…did my mother die?”

All Jon could do was nod. 

“So no one was spared.” He didn’t mean for it to sound as if it were a question, but Jon shook his head anyway. Robb inhaled and sighed, tightening the grip he had on his breeches. His jaw was clenched for a moment until Jon spoke again.

“I’ve sent ravens all over Westeros to try and locate Arya. No luck, no word.”

“What about Sansa?” 

“She’s married to the Imp. Tyrion Lannister.”

“Gods be damned,” Robb said through gritted teeth. As he turned to his brother, the look in his eyes were that of anxiousness, of dread. 

“Aye,” Jon replied.

Robb knew that the conversation was grim. He wanted to change the subject quickly. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“You loved her, didn’t you, Snow?” He asked more quietly.

Jon looked at him with curiosity. “Who, Stark?”

“…Arya.”

“Of course I did. She was my sis--”

“That’s not what I meant. Did you love her like a man loves his wife?” He asked, cutting him off, pained at the memory of Talisa being brutally murdered before his eyes, her stomach repeatedly stabbed. 

“…yes…” Jon admitted. 

“She felt the same, I bet. She wasn’t as close with me, or Sansa, Bran, or Rickon as she was with you. She loved you, with all her heart. She watched you practice, and it seemed like you were the only one who could tame her wildness. When she was being annoying, you tolerated her.” He gave Jon a slight smile, his hand grabbing hold of his shoulder and squeezing it firmly. “Maybe she didn’t know until after you left.”

“Maybe she never will.”

“People realise things when it’s too late. There is a high chance that she doesn’t know you’re dead. The only ones who know are the people who were there that night. Word travels slowly when the word is coming to and from the Wall.”

“It would be tragic if she came to the Wall only to find out that I was long gone.” 

“Aye, it would.”

The night seemed to be quickly fading, the darkness lightening with each breath.

“It’s not your time,” Robb stated as he looked into the nothingness above them. 

“What?” His brother stared at him, his eyes knowing, intensely, with urgency. 

“Find Arya. Get Sansa. Protect them with all that’s in you, Jon.”

“But the Night’s Watch--”

“You’re no longer bound to the vows of the Night’s Watch. Those vows are only effective until you died, and you’re here, with me, so you’re gone. But you’re going back. You’re free to do as you please.”

Jon’s Stark-grey eyes widen with understanding. He’s right. I am no longer bound by duty - if I don’t want to be.

As he came to the realisation, he decided what he wanted to do. “I will do it. I will put the Starks back in Winterfell, and restore it to its full glory. The flag that will be flying high above the castle will have the direwolf sigil on it, I swear to you.”

Robb nodded with pride and approval, a side smirk on his face. 

“This is my last order as the King in the North,” Robb said, smiling sadly. “Do what I say.”

“I will, brother. I promise.”

“You still have a chance. Do what I couldn’t do - save our family, Snow. Reunite them - reunite _us_. Make those who wronged us _pay_. And what you can also do is…” Jon shuddered from the fierceness in his voice and the hard look in his eyes. Robb grabbed his arm, pulling him closer as he spoke. “ _Wake up._ ”

The light engulfed him as Robb let go, disappearing as quickly as Jon saw him and Grey Wind. 

Jon awoke with a heavy gasp, welcoming the sweet air as it filled his deprived lungs. His eyes darted around, and he realised that he was alone, mostly naked, a thin cloth covering his nether regions.

_Was it a dream?_ He asked himself, but when he looked down at the wounds that were inflicted on him, he realised that it wasn’t a dream at all, and he really was gone for a brief spell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
